


be my lighthouse shining

by Anonymous



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Hunger Games AU, no graphic violence, usual hunger games related warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 07:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17618084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: There is wonder in this, Sana thinks -- that Momo is still the only one who can reduce her to this: helpless and shuddering, unraveling under careful fingers. That Momo is the only one Sana is terrified of breaking. (hunger games au)





	be my lighthouse shining

**Author's Note:**

> short thing inspired by [this thread](https://twitter.com/dxhyunism/status/1090387300633272320)

"I might have to stay there even longer this time," Sana admits, reaching out to tuck Momo's brown hair behind her ear. Momo doesn't react beyond burying her face a little deeper into the dip of Sana's neck, teeth grazing her bare shoulder. Her toes brush gently up against Sana's shin, drawing patterns on Sana's skin. "Momo, are you listening to me?"

After a beat or two, Sana feels Momo's lips curve up against her skin. "Hi," Momo giggles, and Sana's face goes hot. From longing or despair Sana isn't quite sure, but it's almost pathetic that her eyes are already starting to sting with tears. She _knows_ Momo notices -- she notices everything about Sana -- but she doesn't give any indication of it, just sneaks a hand under her shirt, down across the sharp plane of her stomach, fingers dancing. "My name is Hirai Momo." She pauses, and Sana finds her hand trembling as she reaches out for Momo's hip in the dim light.

Even if half of what Sana does in the Capitol is this - hands on the drawstrings of her shorts, kisses on the side of her jaw - Momo's touch is entirely different. She still leaves little wildfires where her fingers stray, sends electricity thrumming through Sana's veins at the slightest touches. There is wonder in this, Sana thinks - that Momo is still the only one who can reduce her to this: helpless and shuddering, unraveling under careful fingers. That Momo is the only one Sana is terrified of breaking.

"But I already -" Sana whines when Momo's fingers drift up again, away from where she wants them. "I already know that, don't I?"

Momo lets out a low hum before clamoring on top of Sana, bracketing the younger girl's hips between her knees. The moonlight catches on Momo's cheekbones, sharpening them in shades of dark blue, like the ocean Sana had seen once when she was young, sinking down to the bottom before her father dived after her. _You're beautiful_ , Sana wants to say, but finds herself breathless. _The only beautiful thing I have left.  
_

_Everything else I lost in the water._

Momo nudges at her neck with her nose, hands wandering restlessly under the thin fabric of Sana's T-shirt, shaking Sana out of her haze. "My name is Hirai Momo," she prompts, again, lightly, and Sana feels a wave of affection crash over her. She leans up to indulge Momo, threading her fingers lightly through the older girl's hair. "Darling," she starts, and the sheer tenderness in her own voice startles her. Terrifies her. "Tell me, what do you like?"

The first time they'd met, Sana had strung an arm happily across Momo's shoulder, leading her down the hallway to the train headed for the Capitol. It was tradition to ask the new tributes this question - she'd take it and spin it into something marketable, and maybe they would manage to survive past the Cornucopia so Sana wouldn't be made to look like an incompetent fool. Momo had stopped in her tracks, gazing quietly back at her with bright eyes, and Sana had felt utterly bare.

Momo leans down to kiss her on the cheek, and Sana shudders, unwittingly, against the fingers dancing up her jaw. "Swimming", Momo leans down again, pulls lower to rest her head on Sana's stomach. Pulls up for air before moving downwards, "dancing", a press of the lips to the swell of Sana's left hip. It's like diving, Sana thinks hazily, before Momo makes the final plunge. "A girl named Minotazaki Sana," Momo whispers, smiling into Sana's thigh, "I'm not sure you're acquainted". And Sana wants - what she wants to do is cry. But she just pulls Momo up by her waist instead so their faces are level, and she brings her hands up to cradle Momo's cheeks. They're so warm, from the beer they'd brewed in their too-big kitchen, from the sun that Momo had soaked in and soaked in until Sana had to bring her in, until Momo stopped kicking and crying.

"As for me," Sana laughs quietly, and the thundering ache in her chest ebbs at the way Momo is looking at her, head cocked and eyes bright with a different kind of clarity. Like Momo is seeing her so clearly, taking away the flesh and bone and _looking_ at her, the heart that Sana has carved away for herself. She hears Jihyo's voice in the back of her head -  _It doesn't make sense,_ _every person in the entire Capitol is tripping over themselves for a chance with you, and yet_ -

"For me," Sana hears herself say, "it's Hirai Momo."

It's the only thing that makes sense.

She kisses her, again and again and again, until the sun climbs back up over the horizon and even after that. In the morning, Momo is still staring at her, eyes soft, hair falling and rising in wisps, when Sana gives into sleep.

 

<       >

 

Sana was the slowest learner in their family. Her father had fashioned special flippers for her so she could follow them around in the water, and he's always looked back at her as they swum, his hand supporting hers under the water. Of course, she'd learned eventually - every child of District Four had to - shed the flippers and rushed out before her parents, floundering away from the sand on the shore.

In a strange and foolish show of bravado, she'd ventured deeper under the water, kicking down lower and lower to look for corals. Quickly she realized that her legs were failing against the rapid currents that had swept up at the surface of the water, that her lungs were running out of air. It wasn't the worst way to die, Sana did think. At the very least, it was in the place she always belonged. Her hand was resting on one of the bright pink corals when her father fished her back up, and she'd sputtered and sputtered and cried and cried, curled into his chest and heaving saltwater.

Later, over dinner, he'd brought her to her room, toweling her down again even though she was already dry.

"There are things in the sea that we shouldn't try to reach, for our sake and theirs," he'd explained, eyes kind.

Sana felt berated. Guilty. She shook her bangs in front of her face in shame, and her father had laughed, then, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Well," he'd pacified, "you would have learned this eventually, but it seems today's incident may well have sped up the process."

 

Momo can't speak when Sana leaves for the train. Crowds make her anxious. Her fingers grapple lightly with Sana's elbow, but there are too many people who've gathered around to catch a glimpse of Minatozaki Sana, the golden girl with the trident.

Before she has to go, Sana closes her eyes and places a kiss to Momo's eyelids, doesn't dare go further than that with so many prying eyes. _I love you_ , she wants to say. _I'll think of you every moment I'm away_.

When she looks up, Momo is crying. The agony in her eyes is disarming, and horrifying, and Sana feels everything holding her together shatter.

It's in this moment that Sana remembers pink corals, thinks about how her dirty, stained hands had reached far beyond her depth to find Momo, Momo who only carries light. Maybe her father was right all along.

 

<       >

 

Nayeon's waiting for her when the train reaches the station, hands buried in her pockets and half of her face tucked under a large scarf. The artificial wind the Capitol's weather-makers employ always feels like shit compared to the sea breeze in District Four, and they've turned it up even more this time of the year to mimic winter. Sana hates it.

"You spend all your free time with her," Nayeon has to shout a little over the wind, handing Sana a large, heavy overcoat. Sana pulls it on and trails closely behind the other girl, can see Nayeon's jaw working, the way her steps grow faster and faster with her increasing agitation. Sana guesses she must have been thinking about this while she was gone, and Nayeon's next outburst confirms it. "Did the Capitol teach you nothing about what happens when you make these things obvious?"

Sana picks up her pace to match Nayeon's, and has to fight the derision she feels at Nayeon thinking she'd ever risk putting Momo in harm's way. Even so, this is nothing if not an opportunity to turn the question back on the older girl. "What I love is a long, arduous train ride away," Sana laughs, pulling Nayeon closer and linking their arms together. "Yours is here." Sana's voice is light and mischievous, and if she had more of a conscience left she might feel bad about this. "Right in this building, actually."

Nayeon stiffens for a beat before she starts walking again, but she knows the slip-up hasn't gone unnoticed.

"Minatozaki, out of the goodness of my heart-"

She doesn't get nightmares when I'm with her," Sana says carefully. Nayeon turns back to look at her, once, and her eyes flicker with something horrible and cruel; that's how Sana knows she's hit a chink in Nayeon's armour. It's a small consolation, Sana thinks, to have someone who understands the darkness Sana carries inside her chest. She's a little apologetic for leveraging on it in this moment, but Sana knows Nayeon would do much more than murder for Jeongyeon, and she'd do it in a heartbeat. Sana is murdering herself, piece by piece, in every hotel room and mansion to keep Momo safe. They're like kindred spirits in a way, which would be comedic if they weren't both struggling to navigate this wretched place.

"I'm just worried," Nayeon admits defeat, finally, voice tinged with exasperation. They've reached the building now, and the doors slide open to buffet them in a blast of warm air.

"I'll be careful," Sana tells her. Nayeon's features shift under the light into something unreadable and far-away, and Sana softens, runs a careful finger down the side of Nayeon's hand. "Please, for once in your life, trust me."


End file.
